


Tonight (I'm Fuckin' You)

by Sleepless_Girl



Series: Between Rolls of Hips and Bright Lights [1]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alcohol, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Clubbing, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Flirting, M/M, Minor Barry Allen/Iris West, One Night Stands, Song Inspired, but Hal doesn't know that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 10:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15265722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Girl/pseuds/Sleepless_Girl
Summary: “How about we take this somewhere else?” Bruce suggested with a hoarseness lingering in his tone.How could Hal Jordan deny? He had already sunken his teeth into the forbidden fruit. He had already agreed to the invitation.“Lead the way.”





	Tonight (I'm Fuckin' You)

The lights flickered on and off, an array of different bright colors. Hal watched from his stool as people danced in a wild manner. Lips and sweaty skin met along with the restless beat of the song. He eyed a blonde girl who kept swinging her head from side to side. Her hips moved with sloppiness and her steps crossed. Yep, she was defiantly drunk. As if the bottle of the peach flavored vodka bottle in her hand wasn’t enough proof. Hal let out a disappointed sigh before taking a swing from his beer.

His eyes continued to skim over the crowd of dancing people. Pupils looking for something… someone. This hadn’t been such a good plan, then again, when were _any_ of Hal’s plans good? Initially, it was supposed to be Barry and him. A time where both take a time out of being superheroes and other people. Sadly, the speedster had called him earlier into the night. Explaining to him—in that fast pace of his—that he wouldn’t be able to make it. Something about Iris and an upcoming cousin’s wedding. Hal hadn’t really paid attention. After that, he proceeded to tell Hal that didn’t stop _him_ from still going. He shouldn’t have listened to the blond man. 

If it wasn’t for him Hal would have been at his apartment. Definitely would’ve been better than being here. Alone. I mean, who cares about socializing anymore when you have porn? All in a little portable device. Fuck this shit. After a good wank, he would’ve probably ordered pizza and popped in _“Rocky.”_ Maybe before all that he would go and spend his small paycheck in the best vodka, he could afford. Taxes? Responsibilities? 

“Ha, what the fuck are those?” Hal murmured into his bottle before taking a drink.

“Four Horsemen, please Ricky.”

Now that would certainly make someone throw up their guts in the morning. Hal turned his head to find the owner of said order. The owner of such a drink was a dark-haired man. One whose hair was so black it practically blends in with the surrounding shadows. Looking at what the man was wearing Hal could tell he had bucks. A button-down shirt the color of the deepest wine, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. What he was doing in such a shabby nightclub is a mystery to him. 

As if feeling Hal’s gaze, the man turned to the brunette. Sweet Mother of Jesus Christ! Blue—no, gray?—eyes stared back with an intensity that provoked a shiver to run down his spine.

Two eyebrows furrowed as a smile laid further below. Confusion. 

“You’re not a regular here, am I correct?”

It took a while for Hal to figure out the man was talking to him. “Oh… yeah, yeah,” his head nodded vigorously.

“I’m, I guess you can say, a rookie around here,” Hal took a gulp from his beer. Trying to drown the nerves building up.

The other man lifted an eyebrow arching it perfectly. His eyes bored onto the beer in Hal’s palm. He then slightly shook his head before turning to the brawny bartender, “Another one if you will Ricky.”

Ricky hummed in understanding.

“You didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it. If you really want to have a good time it’s better if you take a shot of that.” An easy smirk appeared on the handsome face. It was a rather teasing yet enigmatic gesture. As if telling Hal if he wanted to know a secret. Somewhere in his mind, that gesture screamed familiarity.

“My name is Bruce Wayne,” he said while stretching his hand towards him.

Oh. _Oh._ Hal wasn’t only talking to some rich kid. He was talking to Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s Prince; a famous billionaire who has a notorious reputation for sleeping around with anything that moved.

Hal took his hand before telling him his own name. “Mine’s Hal Jordan.”

Before any further questions could spill out of his lips a shot glass slid in front of him. Its tint the same tone as amber, a transparent mix of gold and brown. Hal turned to Bruce and found this one already had the glass on his mouth. Pink lips parted as they let in the strong liquid. His eyes wandered to the curve of the pale neck as this one swallowed down the drink. His mind coming up with rather… rated r thoughts. Bruce seemed to have downed the drink as if it was a glass of fresh stream water. 

Once every single ounce was gone the other male placed the drink down. A curious glance soon found Jordan. Taking a deep breath before saying a quick prayer Hal soon found himself parting his lips. His gagging reflexes hit once the beverage passed through the back of his throat. It was so fucking sharp Hal barely managed to not spit it out. Once the glass was back at the counter he let out small coughs. He unscrewed his eyes as these ones started to water.  
A hand soon found his back, lightly patting him.

“Are you alright?”

Hal playfully glared at the man as he wheezed out, “You fucker.”

Blue-eyed man had a smug look on his face before covering it with a pout. 

“And here I was going to invite you for another round.”

_________________________________________________

After two more shots, they somehow found an empty seat on a booth. Hal wasn’t necessary drunk, but neither was he sober enough to not make a fool out of himself. Some brunette was dancing on the table that sat on the middle. Her movements lacked the finesse of a clear-headed person. In another universe, Hal might have hit on some random girl and ended in the bathroom getting a sloppy blowjob.

But at the moment he had a handsome man at his side. Listening to Hal ramble on about constellations.

“Which I don’t understand why Zeus would save the seven sisters from Orion, and then completely be like, ‘Nah, I’m going to put Orion up there too.’ Like what the fuck is wrong with him?”

“What do you expect from someone who continuously cheats on his wife Hera? Plus, Greek gods are literally the equivalent of teenagers with supernatural powers. They're made to be flawed gods.”

Hal couldn’t help but wonder what Wonder Woman would think of him bashing her gods as he stared upwards at the ceiling. He would probably be six-feet underground with a sword piercing his chest. The thought made a chill run down his back. Now that would be a rather embarrassing death.

Suddenly he felt thighs straddle his hips. A lean yet muscular body sat on his lap, one who also had a face that was worthy of poems. Arms circled around his neck rather loosely. His own hands found a home in Bruce’s back pockets, thumbs doing small circles, trying to caress the flesh beneath.

“Tell me, Hal Jordan, what are you doing here?”

“Suppose to meet a friend here,” he responded with his tongue slightly slurring around the letters.

“Did he cancel on your meeting?” Bruce asked while his face rested on Hal’s neck. Warm breath causing goosebumps.

“You can say he had an unexpected event. Something that had to do with his girlfriend.” Hal answered honestly, leaving a kiss at Bruce’s shoulder. He felt how soft the cloth was beneath his lips. Probably cotton imported from Egypt.

Somewhere in his mind, he picked up the beginning of a new song. Enrique Iglesias? Hal wasn’t completely sure. Before he could question the song further he felt the slow grind of hips against his. He let out a grunt while taking his hands of the pockets, finding it better to grip outside of the confined space. Bruce was seemingly humming along with the beat. 

He saw as Bruce slightly raised himself up and let his hips swing. Fingers gripped into Hal’s shoulder blades. Sometimes the sinful moves would briefly make contact with Hal’s pelvis. Making him jerk upwards slightly into the body above him. The dance was provoking. A taste. 

Then the blue-eyed male leaned into his ear. Hot breath making every hair in his body rise.

“But tonight, I’m fucking you,” Bruce whispered in his ear synchronizing to the voice of the singer.

Hal let out a shivering breath leave his mouth. Before any reaction could be formed, Bruce was off his lap. Walking into the dancefloor the man briefly glanced behind him, blue clashing with brown. Something flickered in those steel blue irises; a sinister invitation was thrown. One that Hal couldn’t help but agree to. In a swift movement—one that he knew Barry would be proud of—he chased after the man with ebony hair. 

He would catch glimpses of the roguish dark red shirt between the ocean of bodies. The rather obnoxiously bright lights worked against him. Making him see a red that wasn’t there. Hal clenched his jaw in frustration of this cat and mouse chase. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw red cotton. Turning towards the direction Bruce went he squeezed through warm bodies. Getting annoyed growls and grunts, along with the occasional “fuck you.”

None of that mattered to him. Hal started to feel like a bull searching for the red cape of a _torero._ (Thank you, very much Hispanic telenovelas. That he totally didn’t watch out of pleasure. It was just the _only_ thing on his cheap cable tv plan that ran at three in the morning.) Finally, his hand found the shoulder of said _torero._ He spun the man around hearing a small gasp escape the other’s throat. Both bodies flushed together.

His leg lightly pressed against Bruce’s own, wedging between both. At the small pressure, the other let out a content sigh. The position caused both bodies to feel every swing and roll of hips. Hal’s body started to react to the friction. Bruce’s hand explored his back and chest in a way that didn’t make Hal feel like he was being downright molested there and then. 

Bruce then slowly went down on his body. Lustful gaze trained on him, making his mouth feel dry. That was until he had to go back up, lips slightly catching on his t-shirt. Hal had danced in his younger more reckless days (Okay, maybe only younger days) in many clubs. His partners had always been so hungry for contact. A hunger that only a starving man could match.  
Now Bruce, Bruce, was different. It was more sensual than sexual. Using not only his body but looks and words to seduce Hal. Seduce Hal in a way he wasn’t afraid to admit he isn’t _that_ straight. The roll of hips requested rather than demanded. In a strange way, it was careful.

Then, before he could get used to the warmth that radiated off the body of his companion, the man removed himself out of Hal’s embrace. Instantly he missed the way both figures fit together. Lips inched close to his ear once again.

“How about we take this somewhere else?” Bruce suggested with a hoarseness lingering in his tone.

How could Hal Jordan deny? He had already sunken his teeth into the forbidden fruit. He had already agreed to the invitation.

“Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Four Horsemen**  
>  ½ oz. Jack Daniels Whiskey  
> ½ oz. Jim Beam Bourbon  
> ½ oz. Johnnie Walker Scotch Whiskey  
> ½ oz. Jose Cuervo Tequila
> 
>  **Torero:**  
>  A Spanish word meaning bullfighter. 
> 
> **Song:**  
>  Tonight (I’m Fuckin’ You)   
> Artist: Enrique Iglesias
> 
> After the support of my previous story, I decided to make another story because I’m a raccoon and I live off on trash. To those who supported my previous work, thank you. To those who read this story, also thank you. Hope you all have a nice day.


End file.
